


Racehorses

by oldwickedsongs



Category: Boardwalk Empire
Genre: Addiction, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 12:04:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2507120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldwickedsongs/pseuds/oldwickedsongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reaction fic for "All In" 4x04. Strictly show canon with references to Bobbie Winthrop, AR's long time mistress. Charlie and Meyer discuss their wounded king.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Racehorses

When you find him; it’s already the late afternoon and there’s not a fiber in your being that doesn’t ache despite the twenty minutes you caught on the train (and when you woke, Rothstein had pulled you against his chest like you weighed nothing at all and for the first time seemed a little like himself. It hurt but you relaxed because it was okay, for now…) Charlie straightens when he sees you, leaving Benny alone with the heroin shipment and moving into your side like a shadow.

He doesn’t need to ask, and you don’t need to speak. You do anyways, “We need half a million dollars by Thursday. Without AR and Massiera.”

Charlie blinks, chews over the numbers and gives a slight nod.

You’re already uncoiling in the chair, willing the sleep to come. There’s a fleeting thought that you should call Bobbie and it might buy Rothstein a full night’s rest but it’s more fanciful thinking than genuine caring. Or you’ll say that. In any case, he hears your thoughts.

“A bullet in the skull would fix his problems.”

You don’t even give him the benefit of the glare. You aren’t sure because it’s Rothstein; a Rebbe for the community or because you agree. Either way, Charlie won’t understand _but he’s supposed to be different. He stood up._

The next words are softer and you could swear they drip with sympathy. It almost makes you want to break. “With dying racehorses, Meyer…it’s a mercy. Too much pain otherwise. Too much money at stake.”

“We’re not talking about this.”

And you don’t.


End file.
